Death's Child
by GravitationZERO-001
Summary: He thought his plan was foolproof, and that nowhere in Magic force could it be destroyed but he didn't count on a Death appearing. *Lots of bashing, may be some slashes, flames will be ignored, reviews get published thanks or PMs, and WARNING: boy X boy slash, don't like? Well, MOVE ON! and for those who like or don't mind... then ENJOY! (some changes will happen to setup later)
1. Prologue

**Author: This is my second HP fanfiction... first one isn't even finished T.T oh well! This popped in my head after watching the DH movie so yeah... ENJOY!**

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Prologue: His Little Angel

In the story of the three brothers and Death there were wishes made. Foolish wishes for life, for power, and for hiding.

The stone of revival.

The elder wand.

The invisibility cloak.

Three wishes from three brothers, but Death gave one other wish, just one other, to a broken witch.

A small girl, glowing with beauty and youth, walked down a dark corridor. The soft pitter patter of her steps filled the hall, the sound eery. She was an angel with pure ruby hair that fell to the middle of her back, curly locks framed her pale face; soft black eyes framed by thick curled lashes, rosy lips, and a cute button nose. The girl walked until she came to a dark oak door, placing a fragile pale hand she pushed the door open. Inside the room it was dark, just like the hall, only lit by the could covered moon.

"Papa?" She called timidly.

"Yes, child?" Replied a deep powerful voice.

"I had another dream, papa..." She said as she walked farther into the room.

It was a study, two walls were bookshelves and there was a study desk near the only window. A leather chair placed behind it with two chairs in front. In the middle of the room were two black leather sofas and a coffee table in between. Sitting in the leather chair, reading a book, was the Lord of the House. Stopping his reading the man looked at the child in front of his desk.

"Come, child," He said and patted his lap, "do tell of what your dream inclines."

The girl climbs on to his lap and curls herself against his chest, listening to the hollowness inside.

"Foolish witch who gives a false love to a harsh man for the sake of her own affection, within her actions destinies of the future have begun. A child without love, born from falseness and raised with harshness. The child showered with awe and power, but feared by all. Child destined to become darkness, with no soul, no pity. Forever doomed to not understand love or mercy." She recites quietly.

"A witch will give a love potion to a muggle man, and conceive a half-blood child who will grow to be a Dark Lord who will know no compassion?" The man says questioningly.

"Yes, but there's more papa." She says hesitantly.

"Hush now, child, you can tell me more another time." He says gently.

"Yes papa." The girl replied, "Papa? May I hear a bedtime story?"

"Yes, you may, my sweet angel." He answered.

Rising from his sit, the man carried the girl to her room as he told her a story. She watched him as she listened. The man was tall, towering. Ice blue eyes framed by long black lashes, a straight nose, and narrow pale lips. Pure black hair kept in a tight long braid that rested upon his shoulder. Skin pale with a sickly glow. He wore all black. The young girl's light pink night gown apparent against his black turtle neck.

"Once upon a time, a long time ago, there lived a king. This king had many followers, loyal and obedient, but the king was lonely. He longed for a joyful company. He was powerful and feared throughout everywhere, and thus he could not find a soul that would willingly be beside him. Over time, the king grew bitter and cruel. His subjects, though loyal and obedient, feared him so. He knew no love, no warmth, no happiness... Until an angel was gifted to him." The man said as he lowered the girl on to her bed.

Covering his child and tucking the blanket around her, the man sat beside her covered legs.

"The king was with surprise that an angel would be gifted to him, when he himself was higher than the devil. For he was Lord Death, who would present so sweet a creature such as an angel to a dark being?" He continued petting her hair, "The angel was but a baby, wished upon him. She brought the sensation of joy and warmth with her, a bundle of happiness. Lord Death raised her for eons, and he was filled with such warmth when the angel said her fist words and stumbled her first steps. He vowed to forever watch her grow..."

"For her story hasn't begun, right papa?" She asked.

"That's right, my little angel, your story hasn't begun.. but soon my dear." Death replied.

"Good night papa, I love you." She said.

"Dream, my Rosemary..." He whispered, "and I you."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Prophecy

Tom Marvolo Riddle was an extraordinary boy, he was different from all the other children in the orphanage where he had grown. He was a beautiful child with chocolate hair, pale skin, and stormy hazel eyes. Tom was a feared boy though, feared for the strange things he could do. When an elderly man came to the orphanage it was that day that changed Tom's life, and was the first step of the prophecy. He was told that magic was real and that he, Tom, was a wizard. The first time Tom went to the magic world, he was excited and disappoint all at once. Disappoint because of the /filthy/ muggles that were there with their magical children; muggle-borns. Tom felt anger that the wizarding world would allow those /disgusting monsters/ into their, into his, world. It was unfathomable to the boy with deep hatred for muggles. Finally, the day that Tom went to Hogwarts was the day that Tom felt freedom.

He did not make friends, not because he didn't know how, of course not. No, he simply did not want friends, they were a hassle for him. Instead, Tom had followers. His followers were ever loyal to him, and only him, because they shared the same view as he did; cleanse the wizarding world of the muggle infestation.

Over the years, Tom grew stronger and stronger. He plotted his plans to rid the magical world, his home, of the dirty muggles. The plan was put into full effect once his Hogwarts years were over, but Tom was no longer Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was now Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord and he had taken the finally step that created the prophecy:

/"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. … The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"/

And thus the Dark Lord, mad with power, does the unforgivable.

On one Halloween night Voldemort travels to Godric's Hollow, where the Potter family were hidden with their one year old child; Harry James Potter. Mr. Potter fought bravely to protect his wife and only son, but the man was no match for the Dark Lord. James Potter was the first Potter to die that night by Voldemort's killing spell.

"Such a foolish man." He hissed pitifully.

He made his way upstairs, where Lily Potter née Evans had ran up holding Harry. Voldemort walked into the nursery where Lily was, and stood in place as she turned to him while shielding her baby.

"Stand aside woman, and I will spare you." Voldemort commanded.

"Please, not my baby." She begged refusing to move.

"Stand aside, I do not wish to kill you." He replied furiously.

"No! I won't let you harm Harry!" Lily shouted as tears fell from her green eyes.

"Pity. -Avada Kadavra-!" He said.

Lily's body fell to the floor with a heavy thud, and the only sound was a soft whimper from a baby boy in a crib. The innocent child had felt when his parents energy had disappeared. Voldemort looked at the child in curiosity before he pointed his wand at the boy and whispered the killing curse. Watching as the bright green light hurled toward the boy, the Dark Lord hadn't excepted for the spell to bounce back at him. No time to react, Voldemort was hit by his own killing curse. All that was left was the black cloak that had covered the man, and a crying baby scarred with a lightning bolt on his forehead.

Thus the story of the Boy-Who-Lived and destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was born.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Princess of Death

"Good morning papa." Rosemary greeted, "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine light my little Rose, and yes I slept fitfully. You, my dear?" Death asked.

"I had a dream last night, of the past." She replied.

"I see, come, it is time for breakfast." He said softly.

Holding her father's cold hand, the two Deaths walked to the dining room. It was not unusual for the inner demons to see their lord holding hands as he walked with his daughter, but it was a surprise to see him with a smile no matter how small as he listened to her sing softly.

-"Would you know my name  
If I saw you in heaven?  
Would it be the same  
If I saw you in heaven?

I must be strong  
And carry on,  
'Cause I know I don't belong  
Here in heaven.

Would you hold my hand  
If I saw you in heaven?  
Would you help me stand  
If I saw you in heaven?

I'll find my way  
Through night and day,  
'Cause I know I just can't stay  
Here in heaven.

Time can bring you down,  
Time can bend your knees.  
Time can break your heart,  
Have you begging please, begging please.

Beyond the door,  
There's peace I'm sure,  
And I know there'll be no more  
Tears in heaven.

Would you know my name  
If I saw you in heaven?  
Would it be the same  
If I saw you in heaven?

I must be strong  
And carry on,  
'Cause I know I don't belong  
Here in heaven."- **(A/N: CREDIT! song 'If I saw you in Heaven' by ****Eric Clapton)**

Reaching the dining room, Lord Death ordered his servant to bring his daughter a fine breakfast seeing as that they'll be going out into the living world today. Bowing lowly, the young demon hurriedly went to prepare the food for its princess.

"Papa, why are we going out today?" The young girl asked curiously due to never going to the living realm.

"You have been invited to Hogwarts and Drumstrang." Death answered and waved to a demon to walk to his daughter.

It walked cautiously toward her seeing as no demon was ever allowed near her, with exception of the chef demons. It fearfully knelt down beside her and presented the two invitations, the demon's head was down in submission. Retrieving the letters from the demon, Rosemary's small hand came into contact with the icy skin of the demon. It pulled its hands back as if burned, but in reality it felt a warmth from the princess' touch.

"Thank you." She said gently.

The demon stared up at her in shock before it gave a quick and shaky 'you're welcome'. It bowed politely and left hurriedly, hoping that its demonic friends didn't laugh at the flustered look on its face.

"You have no idea the affect you have on the demon." Death chuckled.

"Kindness is a powerful thing that the living above have marked weak and foolish." Rosemary stated as she opened the letters.

"Which school would you like to attend, dear?" He asked patiently.

"Both schools have tasteful worth and accomplishments." She replied thoughtfully.

"True," Death agreed, "but...?"

"I would like to visit both before I decide. And the materials are the same."

Nodding, Death agreed to take his child to Drumstrang once they finish with the supply list then later to Hogwarts. He read on his soul count of the month while Rosemary ate in mannerly fashion, no hurry at all.

"How distasteful." Death mutters irritably.

"What troubles you papa?" Rose asked with concerned curiosity.

"A wizard by the name of Peter Pettigrew has been holding off his end." He grumbled.

"Oh! His name sound familiar, papa!" Rosemary exclaimed.

The hollow man stared at her questioningly, but understood when she explained of her dream. Rosemary had dreamt of the assassination of the Potter couple beforehand, and had tried to get her father to warn them. Death, like the dotting father he was, tried everything in his capable power to give his little angel happiness, but not even Death could stop a prophesied destiny. Perhaps creaked prophecies, but air tight prophecies Lady Fate was not persuadable. It had been years from that scarring night since Rose had dreamt of it, though this dream had brought useful information for the future.

"So Peter Pettigrew was the true Secret Keeper of the Potters?" Death asked clarifying.

"Keeping himself hidden as a common gray rat, quite fitting." Rose said frowning.

"Now, my sweet Rose, do not frown... Though still beautiful, I'd prefer a smile."

"Oh papa, you flatterer!" She said and laughed.

Many a demon stopped working as their sweet princess' musical laughter filled the room, many feeling a strange and long forgotten warm.

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**Author: Please don't be shy! Review!**

**Slow beginning, I know... but it'll go by faster soon!**


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